Chapter Thirteen
The police station I had to collect Stevie from was open twenty-four hours, and even at 4 a.m. there were two people in the waiting area. Adrian and I went up to the counter where the duty officer was standing behind a computer screen. Adrian gave our names and said we were here to collect Stevie.
‘I’m his foster carer and this is my son,’ I added.
The duty officer tapped the keyboard of his computer and then told us to take a seat and that an officer would bring Stevie to us. The other two waiting looked as though they’d been there a while, but we’d only just sat down when a door opened and Stevie appeared with a female police officer. Dressed in his school uniform and with his head hung low, he looked guilty and remorseful. Adrian and I stood and went over.
‘Cathy Glass?’ the officer asked.
‘Yes.’
She confirmed my address and then said, ‘I’ve had a chat with Stevie and either I or another officer will visit you both during the next couple of days to check all is well.’
I thanked her. She said ‘Good luck’ to Stevie, and we left.
‘You OK?’ Adrian asked as he pressed the button to release the outer doors.
Stevie gave a small nod. Shoulders sagging, he looked dejected and was clearly tired, as were we. He walked beside Adrian to the car and I opened the rear door for him to get in.
‘You’ll be ready for bed,’ I said lightly to Stevie as I started the engine. He didn’t reply. As I drove I occasionally glanced at him in the rear-view mirror and saw his eyes gradually close as he began to nod off, only opening when I had to suddenly brake to avoid a cat that had shot across my path. ‘Sorry,’ I said.
A few minutes later I was parking outside our house, relieved that Stevie was safely back with us. Whatever had happened would wait until tomorrow. What we all needed now was sleep. Adrian used his key to let us in and Stevie went straight upstairs.
‘Do you want anything to eat or drink?’ I called after him.
‘A glass of water, please,’ he said quietly.
‘I’ll bring it up.’
Adrian poured himself a glass of water too, and I thanked him for his help. He said he’d set his alarm for the morning as he was on an early shift, and would try not to wake me when he left. He’d only get two hours’ sleep at the most. I took Stevie’s glass of water up and saw that my note on the landing to Paula and Lucy hadn’t been moved. Given neither of them had phoned or texted, I assumed they’d slept through our absence.
Stevie had left his bedroom door ajar, so I knocked on it and went in. He was sitting on his bed, still in his school clothes and looking sad. ‘Do I have to go to school tomorrow?’ he asked as I handed him the glass of water.
‘Probably not. Get some sleep. I’m guessing Verity will want to see you tomorrow. And if you are leaving, we will have to pack your things.’
He took a sip of water and I left him to change and get into bed. Did I hope he could be persuaded to stay? Yes. But that would depend on a number of issues, including what Stevie wanted and what the social services considered best for him. Without any real idea of what had made Stevie run away and then refuse to return to us, I couldn’t really say how Verity would view this placement, although it is generally considered better for the child or young person to be kept with the same foster carer if possible.
I climbed into bed and, utterly exhausted, slept. I was woken by my alarm at 7 a.m. Adrian had already left for work and I could hear the girls on the move. Music was coming from Lucy’s room and Paula was downstairs playing with Sammy and hopefully getting herself some breakfast. I slipped on my dressing gown and went round the landing where I knocked lightly on Lucy’s door. ‘Can you keep the music down?’ I said, opening it slightly. ‘Stevie’s in bed. I collected him in the early hours.’
She turned down her music and continued getting ready for work. Downstairs I found Paula in the kitchen and I told her what had happened during the night.
‘I’m glad Stevie’s safe,’ she said, and carried her breakfast to the table. I made a cup of coffee and took it upstairs to drink while I showered and dressed. I guessed Stevie would sleep for some time, but I needed to be up and ready for whatever the day had in store.
It was only when I went downstairs again that I found Stevie’s dinner from the night before plated up and in the stone-cold oven. I scraped it into the bin, saw the girls off at the door and then poured myself another coffee, which I took with my fostering folder into the living room. Social services, police and fostering practices have changed over time, but based on my experience I was expecting Verity and the police to call at some point today and probably visit. I brought my log notes up to date and then at 9 a.m. I telephoned Stevie’s school and told the secretary that Stevie had been found safe but wouldn’t be in school today. I asked her to tell Carolyn. I assumed the police had contacted the school as his class teacher had been the last one to see him before he went missing. Just as I returned the phone to its base, Peggy rang.
‘Sorry I couldn’t talk last night,’ I said straight away. ‘I was shattered.’ On reflection, I felt I’d been a bit curt with her.
‘Join the club,’ she said wearily. ‘We were up too. So what’s Stevie been saying about why he ran off?’
‘Nothing at present. He’s still in bed. I didn’t press him last night. I’ll talk to him today once he’s up.’
‘Hold on a minute. Fred’s just let himself in from taking the kids to school.’ I waited while Peggy relayed what I’d said to Fred. She came back on the line. ‘Fred says Steven needs a good talking to, not his beauty sleep.’
I sighed. ‘Please reassure Fred that I will be talking to Stevie once he’s awake.’
‘Don’t you ever get angry with him?’ she asked.
‘More frustrated,’ I admitted. ‘Peggy, do you have any idea what could be worrying him now?’
‘No, we haven’t seen him for over a week and he didn’t return my call.’
‘All right. I’ll talk to him and try to find out. I’m expecting Verity to speak to him too, so I’ll phone you when I have any news.’
‘Thanks.’ She paused. ‘We do love him, you know. But we can’t cope when he’s like this, what with Kiri and Liam as well. We’re not young and it’s very stressful. Fred was so wound up again last night. I worry who would look after Kiri and Liam if anything happened to us.’ I sympathised. Even though Stevie wasn’t living with them, they were still suffering the fallout from his behaviour.
‘I’ll give Stevie your love and tell him to phone you once he’s up,’ I said.
‘Thank you.’
Having said goodbye to Peggy, I telephoned Verity. It went through to her voicemail so I left a message saying that Stevie had been found safe and well, and was with me, but hadn’t gone to school today. The duty social worker should have updated her, but I thought it best to make sure.
With the house quiet and warm, I rested my head back on the sofa, and despite the caffeine from two coffees I began to doze. I was awoken by the sound of the landline ringing, and automatically reached out to take it from my bedside cabinet before I realised I was in the living room. I took the handset from the corner unit. ‘Hello?’ The clock on the mantelpiece showed it was 9.45 a.m.
‘Cathy, it’s Verity. I got your message. How is Stevie?’
I shook off the sleep and tried to gather my thoughts. ‘He seems unharmed, just quiet. He’s still in bed. I’ve told the school he won’t be in today.’ I then went over the details of him being found at the bus terminus and collecting him from the police station.
‘Did Stevie say where he’d been, or why he’d run away?’
‘No. There was an incident at school yesterday in last lesson. He was caught using his mobile phone and the teacher wanted to confiscate it until the end of the day. He swore at her and ran off. But I’m sure there’s more to it. He’s been quiet and withdrawn all week and hasn’t seen or spoken to his grandparents or Liam or Kiri.’
‘I’ll need to talk to him, but it won’t be until after one o’clock.’
‘We’ll be here,’ I said.
I replaced the handset and stared, unseeing, into space – that zoned-out feeling that comes from lack of sleep. Five minutes later the front doorbell rang, startling Sammy who shot behind the sofa. I answered it to find the woman police officer I’d seen earlier at the police station. ‘I was passing so I thought I’d pay Stevie a quick visit now so we can sign him off,’ she said. ‘Is he in?’
‘Yes, but he’s still in bed. Shall I get him up?’
‘Yes, please.’
I showed her through to the living room, then went upstairs to fetch Stevie. He took some waking and I had to tell him three times that a police officer was here and needed to see him. ‘Why?’ he mumbled.
‘To make sure you’re OK. It’s standard when a young person goes missing.’
‘But I’m still tired.’
‘So am I, love. Put on your dressing gown and come down. You can come back to bed once she’s seen you.’
Groaning and still half asleep, he did as I said and staggered down in his dressing gown, his hair all over the place. Usually immaculate, if he hadn’t been so tired he’d never have been seen like that.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long,’ the police officer said, smiling, when she saw him. ‘How are you?’
He flopped onto the sofa and yawned. ‘Tired.’
‘Yes, I can imagine,’ she said. ‘We had a good chat yesterday at the police station while we were waiting so I’m not going over all that again. You understand why it’s dangerous to run away? As well as causing your foster carer and grandparents a lot of worry?’ He nodded. ‘Is he allowed to stay here permanently then?’ she asked me as Stevie yawned again.
‘I’m not sure yet. His social worker will be seeing us later.’
‘And you’re happy to stay here?’ she asked Stevie, not fully understanding how the fostering system worked.
Stevie shrugged.
‘You said you were when you were at the police station.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I guess.’
‘That’s it really then,’ she said to me. ‘I just needed to check he was safe and well.’ She stood ready to leave. ‘Don’t run away again,’ she said to him.
He gave a half-hearted nod. ‘Can I go back to bed now?’ he asked me.
‘Yes, but only for a couple of hours. We have Verity coming later.’
He heaved himself off the sofa and went upstairs as I saw the police officer to the front door.
‘Did Stevie tell you why he’d run away?’ I asked her once Stevie’s bedroom door had closed.
‘He said he thought he’d be in trouble if he came back.’
‘Trouble. What for?’
‘He wouldn’t say any more. But he certainly didn’t want to go back to his grandparents. He thought he’d be in more trouble there. He seems to trust you, so try talking to him.’ Which niggled me, given all the time I had spent talking to Stevie, trying to find out what was wrong.
‘I will,’ I said. ‘But I hope Stevie already knows he can confide in me.’
‘At his age problems can get out of proportion, especially if they can’t live at home, poor kid.’ I nodded. ‘Hopefully he won’t come to our attention again.’
‘I hope not,’ I agreed, then I thanked her, and we said goodbye.
While Stevie slept, I got on with the housework and had a tidy-up. Then just after midday I woke him and told him he needed to shower and dress as his social worker would be coming before long and he also needed to telephone his grandparents. He moaned, turned over and said he was very tired. I told him he could have an early night as Adrian and I would be doing, and pointed out that we’d had less sleep than him. He moaned some more.
‘I expect you’re hungry,’ I said. ‘When did you last eat?’
‘I got chips and had them in the bus shelter,’ came his mumbled reply from beneath the duvet.
‘Do you want a cooked breakfast?’
He nodded. In my experience, growing lads can usually be persuaded from their beds with a fry-up.
‘Up you get then. I’ll cook it while you shower and dress.’
Downstairs, I waited until I heard Stevie in the shower before I started cooking his breakfast. When he appeared he looked quite rejuvenated, clean and with conditioned and towel-dried hair. He was dressed in freshly laundered jeans and a pale blue jersey, and I noticed he was wearing a delicate silver necklace that I hadn’t seen before.
‘That’s nice,’ I said, pointing to it as I set his breakfast on the table in front of him.
‘It was Gran’s,’ he said. ‘I always liked it when I was little and she gave it to me on my thirteenth birthday.’
‘That was kind of her. I expect you treasure it.’
‘I do.’ He touched it reflectively, then picked up his knife and fork.
‘Once you’ve finished you need to phone your gran,’ I said. ‘She and your grandfather were very worried about you last night.’
He nodded.
I busied myself in the kitchen while Stevie ate, then once he’d finished I went to the table and sat opposite him. ‘Stevie, now I need you to tell me what has been bothering you lately and made you behave as you did yesterday – swearing at your teacher and then running away.’
He shrugged, couldn’t meet my gaze and then said, ‘I had my phone on in lessons.’
‘Yes, I know that. Carolyn told me. You know you’re not supposed to, so why didn’t you hand your phone to the teacher as she asked, instead of swearing and running off? She would have given it back to you at the end of the day.’ I was struggling to believe this was the only reason for his behaviour.
He shifted uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t want her to see some of the stuff on my phone.’ I went cold. Surely he hadn’t made the same mistake twice? We were still waiting to hear the outcome of the police investigation into the indecent images he and Joey had swapped.
‘What stuff?’ I asked.
‘Text messages about her,’ he said, still unable to meet my gaze. ‘Most of the class are in a WhatsApp group and sometimes we keep our phones on silent and text.’
‘During lessons?’
He nodded. I thought that schools must fight a continuous battle with the use of mobile phones. It was bad enough at home, but what Stevie had said did seem plausible.
‘What did your text message say about her?’ I asked.
‘That she was a useless teacher.’ He finally met my gaze.
‘Is there anything else on your phone you didn’t want her to see?’ I asked.
He shook his head and looked away. ‘I just didn’t want her to see my texts about her. I would have been in trouble and so would all the others in the group. They’re being OK to me now, you know, accepting who I am. I wasn’t going to drop them in it.’
Which sounded like the truth to me. ‘All right, thank you for telling me. In future, if you can’t trust yourself to keep your phone switched off while you’re in school, it would be better to leave it here so you’re not tempted.’ I knew there was as much chance of that happening as pigs flying. Most teenagers are glued to their phones.
‘I’ll keep it off at school,’ he promised.
‘Good, make sure you do.’ But of course if all the others in the class were texting during a lesson, I doubted Stevie would be left out. ‘Now you need to phone your grandparents. Verity will be coming later, but I don’t know the exact time.’
‘Can’t you phone them?’ he asked. I would have done with a much younger child, but he needed to speak to them.
‘No, they need to hear from you,’ I said. ‘They were very worried. Use the landline in the living room if you like. If your granddad answers the phone then apologise for worrying him and ask to speak to your gran.’ Stevie didn’t need a dose of Fred’s caustic comments right now.
He did as I asked and went into the living room while I stayed in the kitchen. I heard the relief in his voice when Peggy answered. ‘Hi, Gran, sorry for upsetting you,’ he began, and then told her what he’d just told me. She must have warned him – as I had – about following school rules, for I heard him promise he wouldn’t get into trouble again. He also said he’d see them at the weekend, then he fell silent for some time as she spoke. I heard him say a subdued ‘I love you too’ and then ‘goodbye’. When he came through he looked relieved but sad. ‘Well done. Is everything all right?’ I asked.
‘Gran was crying. She said how much she and Grandpa love me.’
‘Of course they do, very much.’
‘And I love them.’