I got a call off Barbara Barking at eight.
‘They’ve picked her up. She was at the hospital, getting back on to that boy she stamped on.’
Billie – no!
‘Where are you?’
‘At home. They’re going to give me a ring when I can go and pick her up.’
‘You get down there right away. Tell them you want to see her now.’
‘But they said it could be hours yet.’
‘We don’t have to do it their way. Get down there, give her a bit of support, even if they don’t tell her now she’ll know later on you were there for her. I’ve got to finish up here. I’ll come and join you soon as I’ve sorted out some care for my Joe.’
I rushed around like a maniac getting things sorted. By the time I arrived, Barbara and Dan were sitting holding hands in the waiting room, every inch the concerned parents. I had a quick pow-wow – Billie had already been in there two hours. Her social worker had been and gone and she was still locked up. They had her just where they wanted her. As luck would have it they had Sergeant Farrell on the desk. We’re old mates, me and Sergeant Farrell. I told him a while ago.
‘Think you know it all, don’t you, Sergeant? Maybe you do. But so do I. So while I’m here – do it by the book, right?’
No point in being coy when it comes to people like that.
‘I’m here to see Billie Trevors,’ I told him.
Farrell hardly looked up from his paperwork.
‘She’s being questioned at the moment,’ he said.
‘Has she had her phone call?’
‘I’m not aware …’
‘Then I’ll do it for her, shall I? She’s still a minor. If you don’t mind.’ And I straightened up as if I was expecting to get taken through.
‘I’ll have a word when I’ve finished filling in this form,’ he told me, without looking up.
‘You have a vulnerable child locked up in there. I want to see her now.’
He looked at me as if I was made out of sick. ‘Vulnerable?’ he said. ‘Do you know what she did?’
‘She kicked a bloke in the balls. Don’t tell me you haven’t done the same thing. I don’t see you being held in the cells overnight.’
He looked away and shook his head disgustedly.
I leaned across the desk. ‘I’m having lunch with your chief constable next week, Sergeant. Let’s hope your name comes up in a positive light, shall we?’
‘I don’t see much chance of that happening if it’s you saying it,’ he told me.
‘If you stick to doing your job rather than harassing prisoners you don’t personally like, your name will come up in a positive way. Now, I’d like to know what’s going on here, please. Has she been arrested? On what grounds are you holding her?’
‘She’s helping us with our enquiries,’ he said calmly, going all formal on me. ‘Take a seat, Mrs Holloway. We’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.’
I stayed where I was. I waited. He waited.
‘I’m waiting,’ I said.
He put down his pen and went out round the back to have a word with his inspector.
I shouldn’t do it really. I expect he just went back to the cells and gave her a hard time. But Billie would want me to give them some stick.
In between nagging the police, I had a catch-up with Barbara and Dan. I hadn’t had much to do with them before, but over the past couple of days we’d been on the phone all the time. She’s not exactly what you’d call stable. It’s all sunshine and light one minute, fits of rage the next. Today, it was the guilt. ‘Oh, Hannah, it’s all my fault, I’ve been too strict, I called the police, I’ve not given her a fair chance.’
‘Yes, Barbara,’ I replied. ‘It is all your fault. You called an armed-response unit out because she lost it after going to give her mum a birthday present – despite the fact that you’ve been told by several sources, including myself, many times, when her mum’s birthday is and to expect problems around that time. You chose that evening to try and ground her for a month. Well done.’
Only I didn’t.
‘No, Barbara, you mustn’t blame yourself, don’t be daft … blah blah blah.’
It’s her husband, Dan, has the level head. I’d like to say to her, Can you not listen to your husband, love? He’s got more sense in his little finger than you have in your entire body. But she’s the dominant one. She doesn’t just wear the trousers, she’s got his Y-fronts on as well. He knows it’s wrong, the way she goes on, but he hasn’t got the guts to put his foot down and say no.
That’s life. No one gets a degree in bringing up kids – you get what you’re given. At least she sticks with Billie, which is more than her other carers have done. And that counts for a lot.
I got a bit more of the picture sitting in the waiting room that night, in between chasing up the police. Billie hadn’t told me the half of it. I knew that she’d punched him, for example; I didn’t know how many times. Or about the time she punched her. Bloody hell. By the time I’d heard it all I’d changed my mind a little bit. They certainly had sticking power.
It was a puzzle, for sure. Why hang on to a kid that you’re unsuited to care for, even after she’s punched your lights out two or three times? Not that I’m one to talk, mind. Why do any of us do it? Me, I have my work at the Brant, I have my son, Joe – that’s my life. I don’t have time for anything else. I don’t see anyone, I don’t go out. I haven’t had a bloke for years, and that was an affair with a married man – it’s all I have time for. It’s my job to do everything in my power to be the best mother I can to those kids. It’s a hard job – it’s impossible, actually. The pay’s rubbish. Why do I do it? I don’t know. But I do it and I love it and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But Barbara – calling the armed-response team in? Her and her husband getting black eyes once a month? What does she get out of it?
‘You’re a professional, Hannah,’ she said. ‘You have a lot of experience with girls like Billie.’
‘There’s not many quite like Billie, but yeah.’
‘When we first took her on, they said how if you’re just prepared to see it through, a child will learn to love you. Tell me honestly: do you think Billie will ever come to see me as a mother?’
I thought, Oh, gawd. Is that it? She wants to be Billie’s mum.
You’d think it’d work, wouldn’t you? She wants to be a mum and Billie wants a mum – it should be a match made in heaven. Except …
‘Billie already has a mum, Barbara. She’s a crap mum, but she’s still her mum and no one’s ever going to take her place.’
Barbara stiffened up. What else could I say? You should never take on a teenage foster-child because you want to be their mother. It isn’t going to happen.
I touched her on the knee.
‘I’m sorry.’
She nodded stiffly. Ah, bless. We all want someone to love, and we all want someone to love us back.
‘Do you still want her to come back to you?’ I asked.
She didn’t hesitate, give her that. ‘I still want her,’ she said. ‘She might not be able to love me, but I can still love her, can’t I?’ And Dan, sitting next to her, suddenly beamed like an angel.
‘That’s my girl,’ he said. ‘Of course we have to keep her.’
Shut me up, someone, will you? I’ve been doing this for twenty years, and what do I know? Unsuitable they may be – well, anyone suitable would have dumped Billie ages ago. I leaned across and gave her a big hug. ‘You can’t ever be her mum, Barbara, but I never said she won’t learn to love you.’
What is it about that girl? How come we all keep on coming back to her, despite everything she does? She’s violent, unpredictable; she’s dangerous. And you just can’t help loving her.
They let her out about an hour later, after a lot of noise on my part. She’d been arrested for actual bodily harm but not charged. She would be, though. The best we could hope for was to get it down to assault. She looked ruined. Red eyes, grey skin. They hadn’t beaten her and they hadn’t starved her or tortured her in any way. What they had done, they’d locked up a vulnerable girl in a bare cell on her own for three hours when she was distressed. Isn’t that enough?
At least we had a nice little welcoming committee there waiting for her when she got out. We all went over to give her a hug, Barbara first. Then I got my turn. I hugged her tight. ‘You’re doing great,’ I whispered in her ear. She wasn’t looking at anyone, no eye contact. Not good. We all filed out. The police were still on her. One of the young coppers smiled at her and opened the door like he was being nice.
‘See you next time, Billie,’ he said.
I was just waiting for someone to step out of line. I pounced.
‘What do you mean by that, saying that to a child? Don’t tell me that’s part of your training, because I know it’s not.’
The copper opened his mouth to bleat.
‘I’ll have your name and number, I think,’ I said, and whipped out me pen. ‘I have a meeting with your chief constable next week. I can bring it up then. Telling a child she has no future …’
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘That’s for your superiors to decide. I’ve known children in worse trouble than our Billie turn things round and come out with more of a future than you’ll ever have. Name?’ I snapped. I took down the poor guy’s name and number and we all marched out, heads in the air, into the car park, like it was them who was in trouble, not Billie. As soon as we got outside, I started to cackle.
‘Did you see his face? Oh my God!’ I chortled. ‘He bit off more than he bargained for there.’
I thought we’d all have a laugh about it – not. Dan gave an embarrassed little smile. Barbara gave the slightest of snorts down her nose, like, We don’t have time for this. Billie was just too far gone to notice, I think.
‘Well,’ I said to her. ‘I told you I’d be here for you.’
Barbara led her to the car, and I followed on behind. Billie dodged down and got straight in. Still no eye contact. Barbara and Dan followed. I paused, and bent down to the window.
‘Barbara. Can I come? Do you mind?’
She looked at me and glanced at Billie in the back, and for a moment I thought she was going to say no. I wouldn’t have blamed her – it was the Barbara and Billie show now. She had the hard job. I just popped in and out. But she nodded and I opened the door and got in the back beside Billie. We drove along in silence for a good while before she spoke.
‘What’s going to happen to me?’ she said.
I gave it to her straight – she may as well start getting used to it.
‘You’re going to get done this time, Billie. That boy you got, his parents are going to press charges.’
‘I went to say sorry,’ she said.
‘Ah, did you? Ah, love. But sorry isn’t enough.’
‘Nothing’s ever enough,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have been caught if I hadn’t gone in.’
‘Yes, you would, Billie. You know you would.’
‘He shopped me, that kid. I went to say sorry and he shopped me.’
‘Do you blame him?’
‘I’ll have him for that …’
‘Billie, stop it! This situation is your doing and you know it.’
There was a long pause. ‘What do you think I’m going to get?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, Billie. A few months, I expect.’
She looked desperate, poor love. I felt so sorry for her. Billie needs helping, not punishing. Don’t get me wrong. I understand that people are going to get put away sometimes. But why does it have to be in a place that makes them worse, not better?
‘I don’t think I can do that,’ she said.
‘We’re going to fight it,’ said Barbara, leaning across from the front. ‘Don’t you worry, Billie. We’re going to fight it.’
‘Too right we are,’ I said. But I knew, and I think Billie knew – they had her this time. We could appeal till we were blue in the face. Because you know what? She deserved it. I didn’t even know in all conscience whether I could argue for letting her off any more.
I looked at her and I thought how hard she’d tried, how hard we’d all tried to get her life together. And I thought, You know what, Billie? I thought you were going to make it, I really did. But now – I just don’t know.
She was going down fast, and I hadn’t got a trick left to stop her.