8.13 p.m.
Tessa is annoyed with me. She hasn’t said so explicitly, but every time she passes my desk, she huffs like an angry rhino.
I can imagine her inner monologue: I told her not to do that school visit. She’s far too behind on her paperwork. We’re already overwhelmed …
‘What are you doing now, Kate?’ Tessa is behind me suddenly, frothy cappuccino in hand. ‘Not wasting time messing around on the Internet, surely?’
‘Looking up incidents of self-harm in children,’ I say. ‘Just getting an idea of frequency and presentation.’
‘You think Tom Kinnock’s been poking himself with needles?’
‘I’m considering every possibility.’
‘Oh, you’ll never get that Tom Kinnock file straight now. There’ll always be a black mark over it with the paediatrician’s report missing. Tom Kinnock needs to be tucked away in a back drawer somewhere and you need to get the Neilsons in order.’
‘The boy had possible injection marks, Tessa,’ I say. ‘I’m not tucking him away anywhere.’
That silences Tessa for a moment, which is a rarity. Then her face turns smug and she waves a finger. ‘But that’s never been proved by a doctor, has it? It could be sewing-needle marks for all you know.’
‘It’s more than just the marks. Tom’s been late to school a few times. And he’s tired. He’s fallen asleep in class before.’
‘I bet the father’s still on the scene,’ Tessa barks. ‘Causing chaos. Probably the boy is kept up at night by his parents rowing. I’ve seen it a hundred times. The mother goes back for more abuse. It’s not our fault or obligation. Let the mother clear up her own mess.’
‘Lizzie says she hasn’t seen Tom’s father since they moved.’
Tessa puffs her chest out, triumphant. ‘She’s lying. Not our problem. If the mother is too stupid to do what’s good for her …’
‘I suppose it’s possible she could be seeing the father,’ I admit. ‘But when I talked to her, her objective seemed to be hiding from Olly Kinnock. Making sure he didn’t find out where she and Tom lived.’
‘She could still be lying.’
‘And why injection needle marks? There’s never been any history of drug abuse. There’s something else too – Tom had a seizure recently. I found out from the medical records.’
‘That’s serious. How was the home visit?’
‘The house was a bit chaotic, but no other alarm bells. Although the mother seemed anxious.’
‘Most people are when social services knock at the door unannounced. How long did you have with her? An hour?’
‘Half an hour. She didn’t seem like a child abuser.’
‘Child abusers rarely seem like child abusers. Maybe she’s tired. Fed up. Taking her frustrations out on the little boy.’
‘Logically, she’s the only person who could be hurting him. Unless something’s happening at school.’
‘What about the bullying angle?’ asks Tessa. ‘Tom goes to school with the Neilsons, doesn’t he? If he’s anywhere near Lloyd Neilson, he probably gets stabbed with sharp objects regularly.’
‘I need to track down the father,’ I say. ‘And schedule another home visit.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Tessa barks. ‘With a caseload like yours—’
I hold up a placating hand, which makes Tessa’s face flush with fury. ‘This is my decision, Tessa.’
‘If you mess up deadlines for my department, Kate, there will be hell to pay.’
‘It’s my department too, Tessa,’ I say. ‘And it’s more important that I do my job than fill out a load of forms.’
‘What’s got into you?’ Tessa asks. ‘You used to be a proper rules-body.’
‘I’ve decided I’d rather help children than tick boxes.’
Tessa lets out a loud snort. ‘This place is about keeping your head down and covering your backside. Doing a decent job is a long way down the list.’
‘Not for me it isn’t.’ I rub tired eyes. ‘I’m making a cup of tea, do you want—’
‘Nespresso cappuccino!’ Tessa trills. She marches back to her office, shouting over her shoulder, ‘Just pop it on my desk!’
I head to the office kitchen, trying to work out how on earth I’m going to track down Tom’s father and do another home visit when my calendar is booked up for the next month.