Taken. Rosie Lewis

shock and concern audible in her tone. Her voice had that slightly echoey quality created by activating the loudspeaker mode and instinctively I lowered my voice, feeling slightly self-conscious. We discussed Zadie and the prospect of her continuing with the pregnancy and then I took a deep breath. ‘What about Megan?’

      ‘No change as far as I’m concerned,’ Peggy said in that definite, no negotiation tone of hers. ‘I can’t think of a better way for Zadie to learn about caring for a baby than watching someone she trusts do it, can you?’

      Relieved, I leaned against the wall and loosened my grip on the cord of the telephone. It sprang out of my hand and vibrated against the receiver. ‘No, no, I can’t. Thanks, Peggy,’ I added after a moment, slightly worried that I’d been worrying in the first place. I was well aware that I needed to keep myself in check, striking the right balance between giving Megan everything she needed, everything she deserved, and all the while bearing in mind that our time together was limited.

      ‘Anyway, if things go to plan Megan might have moved on to adopters by then.’

      ‘Great,’ I said, pleased that Peggy was still committed to keeping to tight timescales in Megan’s case. There was no doubt that making the transition from foster to forever family early on in her life would help to minimise any lasting sense of trauma and loss – we were often told in training that separating a child from their main caregiver could have profound effects, interfering with their development and the quality of all of their future intimate relationships as well as impacting on their self-esteem, social skills and long-term mental health – and, infinitely less important but nonetheless also present in the back of my mind, it would be easier for all of us to let her go. ‘Now, before I forget, Megan’s LAC review is scheduled for tomorrow at ten. I’ll need you there obviously.’

      ‘Tomorrow?!’ I cried, exasperated. ‘That’s a bit late notice to arrange cover, isn’t it?’ Looked after children, or LAC, reviews were meetings held at regular intervals during a child’s time in care to discuss their care plan and keep everyone involved in looking after them – the child’s parents, their foster carers, school or nursery teachers, health professionals and, in certain circumstances, police officers – updated in terms of their progress and any difficulties they may be experiencing. In other circumstances I would have been happy for Emily to babysit while I popped out, but local authority rules dictated that looked after children must only be cared for by registered back-up carers with a minimum age restriction of 18.

      Peggy tutted. ‘Well, you’ll just have to bring the children along if you can’t organise something in time.’ There was a crackle on the line and a shuffling of papers. I pictured the social worker tapping urgent notes in a Word document using one finger on the keyboard and motioning silent, stern commands to the administration staff around her with the other.

      A whirlwind character, Peggy never held back from speaking her mind and I had heard on the grapevine that her blunt honesty had put one or two noses out of joint in her office, particularly those of the senior management. Despite being sent on repeated diversity and equality training refresher days, she refused to toe the party line simply to keep her bosses happy, steadfastly sticking to her strongly held views.

      Once, so I’m told, she brought her dog into the office for a week when he was unwell, in direct defiance of instructions from above. Through closed doors, in the middle of a heated ‘discussion’ with one of her line managers, Peggy was overheard to say, ‘I haven’t taken a day off sick in ten years, not a single one, which is more than I can say for you lily-livered lot with your stress vacations and mini-breakdowns. Now, either Pug stays and I work, or I’m taking unpaid leave until he’s better. It’s up to you.’ Despite misgivings, the manager caved in and Pug spent the week resting in his basket underneath Peggy’s desk.

      One of the joys of working with someone like Peggy was that you could say exactly what you thought and she never took offence, although you had to be prepared to hear her own opinions pointed out in no uncertain terms. I had often thought that if Alan Sugar ever needed a replacement sidekick to keep a stern eye on the applicants in The Apprentice, Peggy would have been his ideal woman.

      ‘Someone here can watch them for an hour if needs be but it’s not very convenient. I’d rather you made other arrangements.’

       Chapter Eight

      As it was, I didn’t have to bring the children along. Emily and Jamie were both out with their dad for the day and my mother was more than happy for me to drop Megan and Zadie over to her while I went. The LAC review was to be held in one of the interview rooms at the local authority municipal buildings and Peggy was waiting in reception when I arrived. Solidly built, with steely grey hair and heavy-framed glasses, she angled her chin when she saw me, a greeting I had come to accept as friendly, though until I drew closer and she smiled, it looked anything but.

      Des, my supervising social worker from Bright Heights Fostering Agency, usually accompanied me to LAC reviews but plans were in place for him to transfer to the US to conduct research into a youth scheme that was working well there. With a mountain of paperwork to catch up on before he left, he had sent me a text to say that he wasn’t sure whether he’d make it to the meeting. Apart from the statutory visit each month that he was obliged to make, I had heard very little from him in the past weeks, although he had paid us a flying visit in the week, to meet Megan. Having developed a close friendship with him since becoming a foster carer, I missed his impromptu visits and calls.

      Angie, the midwife who had overseen Megan’s care in hospital, was standing at Peggy’s side. She held her arms out when she saw me and after giving me a hug the first thing she wanted to know was how Megan was doing. I was about to tell her when Peggy said, ‘Shall we get on, ladies?’ She rammed the thick file she was holding under her arm and turned, marching wheezily in the direction of the lifts. Angie raised an eyebrow and we exchanged smirks, like chastised schoolgirls, before falling into step behind. ‘Christina’s not here yet but we’ll go ahead without her,’ Peggy said as the lift moved towards the second floor. I had been feeling a bit nervous about meeting Megan’s birth mum after witnessing her volatility at the hospital and so was quite relieved to hear that. ‘The morning’ll run away with us otherwise and I’ve got far too much to do.’

      The interview room was tiny, so small that it was a struggle to open the door wide enough to get inside. A long table took up the entire width of the space, leaving no gap at either end to access the mismatched chairs on the opposite side. The chairperson, a thin man in his early forties with a well-manicured beard and coppery, thinning hair, was already seated in one of the nearest chairs. Standing awkwardly in the cramped quarters, he shook our hands and introduced himself as John Noble.

      ‘It was the only room free, sorry, everyone,’ Peggy said, her voice booming off the walls. ‘Now, I would climb over there, but I’m not sure I’d ever make it out again. At least, not without a hoist.’

      ‘It’s all right, I’ll go,’ I offered, pleased that I was wearing trousers. I perched on the desk and swung my legs over the other side, taking a seat on one of the unforgiving wooden chairs. Angie followed my lead and sat beside me. Peggy thanked us, taking one of the seats opposite with a loud humph. John retook the seat beside Peggy and glanced at his watch. It was almost ten o’clock, the time the meeting was scheduled to begin.

      ‘Christina’s not here,’ Peggy told John. ‘I received a call from the legal team earlier, which I’ll tell you about in a moment. I suggest we start on time and if she turns up we’ll have to recap. Agreed?’

      Peggy’s tone invited compliance and we all nodded our agreement. John went on to tell us that he was present to mediate between the different parties and ensure the correct procedures were followed, but without Christina present it was unlikely that any disagreements would arise. After introducing ourselves, Angie was invited to give a summary of Megan’s health-care needs and I was surprised to hear that there were some concerns about her hearing as well as her low weight.

      Apparently,