Saving Danny. Cathy Glass

say too much as Danny was within earshot, and I didn’t want to leave him so soon after arriving and phone from another room.

      ‘Is Terri with you?’ Jill asked.

      ‘No, she stayed behind to telephone Danny’s mother and tell her Danny had been found. There’s a meeting at school first thing in the morning. At nine o’clock.’

      ‘That’s the first I’ve heard of it,’ Jill said. ‘I won’t be able to attend. I’ve got a child’s review booked in at nine-fifteen. It’s been in the diary for a month.’

      It was more important for Jill to attend a child’s review than the meeting at Danny’s school, and Jill knew that as an experienced foster carer I’d be all right to attend the meeting without her, otherwise she would have arranged for another support social worker from the fostering agency to accompany me.

      ‘No worries,’ I said. ‘I’ll let you know what happens.’

      ‘Thanks. I’ll visit you and Danny tomorrow after school,’ Jill said. ‘Four o’clock?’

      ‘That’s fine. We’ll be home by then.’

      ‘And you’ve got everything you need for tonight?’ Jill asked.

      ‘I think so. Danny’s come with a holdall. Terri didn’t say he had any allergies or special dietary requirements, so I assume there are none.’

      ‘There’s nothing in the essential information forms,’ Jill confirmed. ‘And he hasn’t come with any medication?’

      ‘Not as far as I know, no.’

      ‘All right, well, good luck then, see you tomorrow.’

      We said goodbye. I replaced the handset and looked at Danny. He was now watching Paula put together the pieces of Lego but wasn’t making any attempt to join in, although Paula was encouraging him. It was 6.30, and I really needed to get the dinner on the table. Danny was calm, so I asked Paula if she could stay with him while I went into the kitchen. I went over to Danny to tell him what was going to happen. When a child first arrives I find it helps them if routines, practices and expectations are explained as they arise. Households vary and what is obvious and familiar to members of one household won’t be to another. It helps them to settle in if they have a routine and know what to expect.

      ‘Danny,’ I said, squatting down so I was in his line of vision (although he didn’t make eye contact), ‘it’s nearly time for our dinner, so I’m going into the kitchen to finish making it. Then we’ll all sit at the table and eat. Paula is going to stay here with you, while I’m in the kitchen. All right?’

      He didn’t look at me or acknowledge me, but I now knew he could hear, so I continued. ‘If you need anything, tell Paula. Do you need the toilet yet?’ I thought to ask.

      Danny gave a small shake of his head.

      ‘OK. Good boy. When you do, ask Paula or me, and I’ll show you where it is.’ Usually, I took a new child on a tour of the house soon after they’d arrived so that they knew where everything was, and normally they were inquisitive and ready to have a good look around, but Danny wasn’t. He was clearly struggling with all the changes, so I thought I’d leave the tour for another time. He was a child who needed to take things very gradually, one step at a time.

      ‘Do you want a drink?’ I asked him as I stood.

      He gave another little shake of his head.

      ‘I’ll leave the door open so you can hear me in the kitchen,’ I said. I went to touch his shoulder – a little reassuring physical contact – but he moved out of reach. Not rudely, just showing he didn’t want to be touched, which I understood. I hoped that would change in future when he got to know me, for if there was ever a child who looked in need of a hug, it was Danny.

      As I worked in the kitchen I could hear Paula talking to Danny, encouraging him to play, but there was nothing coming from Danny. I would learn more about his language delay and general development at the meeting at his school the following morning, when I would also meet his mother.

      Once dinner was ready I went into the living room where Paula and Danny were sitting on the floor as I’d left them. Paula had built a small house out of Lego, complete with windows, a door and a potted plant on the doorstep. Danny appeared not to have even touched the Lego. There were other games and toys within his reach, but he hadn’t attempted any of them, despite Paula’s encouragement.

      ‘Very nice,’ I said to Paula, admiring her house.

      She grinned. ‘I’ve always liked Lego.’

      ‘I know. Dinner’s ready,’ I said to them both. ‘I’ll call Adrian and Lucy.’

      I left the living room and went to the foot of the stairs where I called up to Adrian and Lucy. They replied that they’d be down straightaway. I returned to the living room where, to my slight surprise, Danny was slowly undoing the zipper on his coat. Then he began struggling out of it – difficult while sitting down. Paula instinctively reached out to help him, but he pulled away from her. She looked at me and I motioned for her not to worry. Fiercely independent, Danny struggled out of his coat and then clutched it protectively to his chest.

      ‘Danny, we’re going to eat now,’ I said, going over to him.

      He didn’t look at me or reply, but he did stand up.

      ‘Wotcha!’ Lucy said to Danny, as she bounced into the living room. ‘I’m Lucy, Cathy’s other daughter. How are you doing, Mister?’

      Danny didn’t look at her.

      ‘I was a foster child once,’ Lucy said, trying to reassure him. ‘So I know how you feel. But you’ll be fine here, I promise you. You’ll be well looked after and will soon feel at home.’

      Bless her, I thought, although Lucy’s arrival as a foster child had been very different to Danny’s. She’d been older and had been grateful for the stability that being in care offered. I wondered if Danny would respond to her approach, but he didn’t; he just clutched his coat and stared at the floor. He looked so lost and alone I dearly wished I could reach out and hug him, as I’m sure Paula and Lucy did too, but clearly Danny was nowhere near ready for that yet.

      ‘Let’s eat,’ I said.

      Lucy turned and led the way into the kitchen-cum-dining room with Paula following and then Danny and me. Danny was still clutching his coat.

      ‘This is where you sit,’ I said to Danny, drawing out the chair. We tended to keep the same places at the table, partly from habit but also because it helped the children I fostered to settle in if they knew where to sit. It became known as their place, and some even wrote their name on a piece of paper and stuck it to the back of the chair.

      Danny was standing by his chair, still holding his coat. ‘Shall I put your coat with ours in the hall?’ I asked him.

      He shook his head.

      ‘Hang it on the back of your chair then,’ I said, ‘so it doesn’t get food down it. It’s a nice coat. You don’t want it spoilt.’

      Thankfully, Danny did as I asked and very slowly and meticulously draped his coat around the chair-back, and then spent time adjusting and straightening it.

      ‘That’s cute,’ Lucy said, watching him. Indeed it was, but it was also a little odd. Most boys of Danny’s age would have happily thrown their coat on the floor, not spent minutes perfecting its position. Adrian still dumped his coat on the floor sometimes if he was in a hurry.

      ‘Sit down now,’ I said to Danny, for having arranged his coat to his satisfaction he was still standing by the chair.

      There was a small delay, as though he was processing or considering what I’d asked him to do, before he climbed onto his chair.