Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Good, I’m pleased to hear that,’ I said as Stevie came in. I closed the front door. ‘Did Fred bring you home?’ He was nowhere to be seen.
‘Yes. He said to say good evening to you.’
I watched as Stevie slipped off his shoes and hung his jacket on the coat stand. ‘Do you want anything to eat?’
‘No, I’ve had dinner, but I’ll get a drink of water.’
‘Do you want to talk?’
‘Not really. I’ve been talking to Gran. She said she’ll phone you next week.’ I nodded. ‘I’m going to my room to do my homework,’ he said. ‘I’ve got school tomorrow.’
‘All right. I’ll be in the living room if you want me.’
He went into the kitchen and I heard him run the tap for a glass of water, then, as he passed the living room, he looked in and said, ‘Thanks.’
‘What for?’
‘Everything. I’ll try not to bolt again.’
‘Good.’ I smiled, and he managed a small smile in return.
I heard him go upstairs where he said a pleasant hello to Paula, who was just coming out of her room, before continuing to his room. Whatever had happened today – I assumed at his grandparents’ – had clearly had a positive effect. I wouldn’t press him to talk if he didn’t want to. I’d learnt that with teenagers – my own and those I’d fostered – there’s a time to talk and a time to stay quiet and let them have their space, just as there is with adults.
Stevie stayed in his room, I assumed doing his homework, for the next hour and then watched a film on his laptop, and the evening continued for us all as normal. No one stayed up late, as we all had to be up in the morning. Before I went to bed I wrote up my log notes and sent Verity another email, updating her on what had happened since the one I’d sent the day before. I slept reasonably well; so too did Stevie, and he took some waking in the morning.
There was the usual Monday-morning bustle to leave the house on time with everyone passing each other on the landing, stairs or in the hall and then calling goodbye as they left. I had a tidy-up after they’d gone and then sat at the computer in the front room, doing some admin work. An email arrived from Verity in response to mine saying she’d referred Stevie to CAMHS and would ask the police when their investigation was likely to be completed, although she felt they would contact her as soon as it was finished. She also said she’d spoken to Mr and Mrs Jones, but that was all. She didn’t say what had passed between them, so I assumed it didn’t affect my fostering of Stevie.
Stevie came home from school on time, ate with us and then did his homework. While he wasn’t his old self, he was still significantly better than he had been recently, and I thought again that whatever had happened while he’d been at his grandparents’ had done him some good. On Tuesday morning he went to school as usual and then texted in the afternoon to say he was going to see his grandparents straight after school and would have dinner there, and then come home. I didn’t see a problem with that. Kiri and Liam weren’t there and clearly Peggy and Fred were happy with Stevie going, so I texted back: OK, thanks for telling me. Have a nice time.
Stevie returned around 7.30 and I asked him how things were.
‘It was very quiet without Kiri and Liam,’ he said.
‘I can imagine. How are your grandparents?’
‘Not happy. Gran says she’ll phone you.’
That was all he said, and again I didn’t press him further. He went upstairs to his room to do his homework, and then later chatted to Lucy and Paula, mainly about popular bands and music.
I didn’t hear anything further from Verity, but on Thursday afternoon Peggy telephoned.
‘How are you?’ I asked her straight away.
‘Coping,’ she sighed. ‘Now we’re doing something. Fred arranged for us to see a solicitor and we’re fighting to get Liam and Kiri back. The solicitor is reviewing our case now and is very hopeful. He says taking Liam and Kiri into care was an overreaction by the social services, so we should be able to get them back soon.’
‘That’s sounds promising,’ I said.
‘Yes. We also discussed Stevie’s problems with the police.’
‘Good. How are Liam and Kiri?’ I asked. ‘I believe you see them Monday, Wednesday and Friday at the Family Centre.’
‘The first time was dreadful. They were so upset – we all were – but now we only get upset when we have to say goodbye at the end of contact.’
‘It’s very difficult,’ I agreed. ‘Have you met their foster carers?’
‘Oh yes, we see them at the start and end of contact and they tell me what Kiri and Liam have been doing. They’re a nice couple and have helped to put our minds at rest. I know Kiri and Liam are being well looked after, although we obviously miss them dreadfully. But it’s manageable now we know it won’t be for long. We’ve told the children they’ll be coming home soon.’
‘Has Verity told you they’ll be home soon?’ I asked.
‘No, but the solicitor is optimistic.’
My heart sank. It’s very unwise to tell children in care that they will be going home until it is 100 per cent certain and a date has been set. It could take many weeks, even months, for their solicitor to obtain records and review their case, and it wasn’t his decision whether Kiri and Liam returned to their grandparents, but the social services’, and ultimately the court’s. At present Liam and Kiri were in care under a Section 20 – voluntarily – as was Stevie, so technically Peggy and Fred could remove them from care and take them home whenever they wanted to. However, that would be unwise because if the social services thought there were still safeguarding issues they would immediately apply for a court order – within hours – to keep them in care. If the order was granted, Peggy and Fred would lose their parental rights and it would need another, more lengthy court case in the future to have them returned. I assumed their solicitor had explained all this to them. Peggy and Fred had made a promise to their grandchildren they couldn’t fulfil, and it was likely to make them very unsettled and anxious. But I didn’t think it was for me to tell Peggy.
‘Stevie seems to be coping better now he’s seeing you both,’ I said.
‘Yes, he understands that Fred is on his side and no longer blames him for Liam and Kiri being taken into care. He also told Stevie he’s put in a complaint to the police about the way they’ve handled the investigation and how long it’s taking. Fred is fighting on all fronts! I’ve never seen him so animated.’ She gave a small laugh.
‘Good. Well, thanks for phoning and letting me know what’s going on,’ I said.
‘You’re welcome.’
Peggy said she’d phone again when she had any more news, which she hoped to do soon, and we said goodbye.
While all this was positive, I knew that if Kiri and Liam weren’t returned home as Peggy and Fred were expecting, they were all – including Stevie – going to be bitterly disappointed and very likely angry. Stevie’s behaviour would suffer and I was sure Kiri’s and Liam’s would too. But it was positive that Peggy and Fred were now able to support Stevie.
Stevie came home from school on time that afternoon and again on Friday, talked to us and did his homework. He spent most of Saturday on a sun lounger under the tree in the garden with his earbuds in listening to music, and then on Sunday he went to see his grandparents while the rest of us visited my mother. Outwardly, therefore, Stevie appeared far more relaxed and less anxious than he had done for some time, although I knew the matter of the police investigation and now the fare evasion must be playing on his mind, as it was on mine.
It was only ever going to be a matter of time before we heard from the railway company, and on Monday morning when the mail arrived there was an official-looking letter addressed to Stevie. Having seen his grandparents the day before, Stevie came straight home from school that afternoon and was in good spirits. I waited until he’d poured himself a glass of juice before I handed him the letter, which I’d kept with my mail on a countertop in the kitchen.
‘What’s this?’ he asked, looking at it, puzzled.
‘I think it’s the letter from the railway company.’
‘Oh,’ he said. He was going to take it up to his room to read but I asked him to open it with me, so we could decide what needed to be done.
He set down his glass of juice and opened the letter. There were two sheets of closely printed paper. He began reading the top sheet and then sighed and passed it to me. ‘You read it.’
The letter was on the railway company’s headed paper; it appeared to be a standard letter but with Stevie’s details inserted. It began with the date of the offence. I read it out loud.
‘On 20 May you were spoken to by an authorised member of staff with regard to an incident of the non-payment of a rail fare. Before the company proceeds further with its investigations, we would like to give you the opportunity of responding with your explanation concerning it. Please complete the second page and return it to us immediately. Do not delay. This is a serious incident and failure to respond to this letter or provide a satisfactory explanation with regards to this incident will result in legal action being taken.
‘I must inform you that should legal proceedings be invoked, in addition to any fines imposed by the court there will be an application for £150 as a contribution to our costs. Offences are recordable, and should you be convicted you will receive a criminal record.
‘Criminal record’, I read again, and, trying to hide my shock, I looked up. Stevie was watching me, waiting for my response. ‘You need to fill in this form with your account of the events,’ I said evenly, referring to the second page. ‘But I want to speak to Verity first and let her see this letter. She needs to know, and it’s possible she may be able to add something to help.’
‘Like what?’ Stevie asked.
‘That there were mitigating circumstances surrounding what you did. You had some problems and didn’t intentionally get on the train without a ticket and set out to defraud the company, as they are suggesting here.’
‘But I did,’ he said. ‘I knew I didn’t have a ticket when I sneaked on.’
I looked at him, so honest and naïve. ‘Yes, I know, Stevie, and you’re not going to lie, but you told me the reason you did that was because you wanted to get lost. You were feeling low and confused. You wouldn’t have done that if you’d been your normal self, would you?’
‘No, I guess not,’ he agreed.
‘Perhaps Verity as your social worker can add something and say she has made a referral to CAMHS. I’m not saying it will have any effect on the outcome, but she needs to know anyway. Shall I phone her or do you want to?’
‘You can,’ he said gloomily and, taking his glass of juice, went up to his room.
I’d have done the same for my own children. I’m sure most parents and carers would. Stevie had made an error of judgement in getting on that train without a ticket, but he hadn’t been himself, and to receive a criminal record for something so relatively minor seemed preposterous to me. Surely a hefty fine would have been more appropriate? It also seemed a massive waste of the court’s time. If someone is repeatedly found travelling on a train without a ticket then it’s probably apt to prosecute them, but surely not for a first-time offender?
I telephoned Verity straight away, but she wasn’t at her desk. A colleague checked her diary and said she wouldn’t be in the office again until the following afternoon, as she had a home visit to make in the morning. Thanking her, I decided to email Verity so that she would know about the letter from the railway company as soon as she logged on to her computer. I scanned the letter and attached it to the email, and suggested that a report from her might help Stevie’s defence. I asked her if she wanted me to help Stevie complete his statement or if she did. Aware of how busy she was, I pointed out that the railway company had stated our response had to be made without delay. I sent the email, filed the letter in my fostering folder and then went upstairs to Stevie. He was lying on his bed, not doing much. I told him I’d emailed Verity, and that the letter from the railway company was in my folder for safe keeping, but he could have it if he wanted it.
‘I don’t,’ he said grumpily.
I could tell from his expression and general demeanour that receiving this letter had set him back, although we’d been expecting it. ‘Don’t let it get you down, love,’ I said. ‘Verity and I will help you deal with it.’
He shrugged despondently.
I went over to him. ‘Stevie, worse things than this happen in life. I know you’ve had a lot to cope with recently, but just learn from it.’
‘I’ll tell Grandpa,’ he said, suddenly meeting my gaze. ‘He’ll go and see them and complain like he did to the police and social services.’
‘Tell him by all means, but I don’t think he will be able to do any more.’
‘Yes, he will,’ Stevie said confrontationally. ‘You don’t know. He’ll see a solicitor.’
‘OK, fine. I’ll be downstairs making dinner if you need me.’ I came out of his room.
I thought Stevie had an inflated view of what his grandfather was capable of, probably as a result of Fred expounding his achievements. I could picture Fred as he told Stevie and Peggy of his battle with the police and social services. Peggy regarded his authority with some reverence, just as Stevie was now doing. However, if this did go to court, having his grandparents there supporting him would be positive for Stevie, providing Fred didn’t try to tell the magistrates how to do their job! They would expect humbleness and remorse from the accused.
Stevie was quiet and sullen at the dinner table, and when Lucy asked him what the matter was, he replied, ‘If you must know, that fucking railway company are going to prosecute me.’
‘Sorry I asked,’ Lucy said with attitude, while Adrian and Paula kept their heads down and concentrated on their food.
‘Please don’t swear, Stevie,’ I said. ‘We don’t know for certain you will be prosecuted.’
‘There’s a bloody good chance!’ he returned.
The rest of the meal continued in an uncomfortable silence, and as soon as Stevie had finished he pushed back his chair and went up to his room.
‘He can be so rude sometimes,’ Lucy said. ‘He needs to grow up.’
‘He’s got a lot on his mind,’ I replied, ‘and we all have our moments.’
Stevie spent the rest of the evening in his room and I checked on him a few times. He was always propped on his bed with his laptop open, which he closed when I went in. I asked him if he wanted to talk, but he shook his head.
In the morning Stevie seemed a bit brighter. ‘I’m going to Gran’s straight after school,’ he told me.
‘Are you having dinner there?’
‘Probably. I need to take the letter to show Grandpa so he can deal with it.’
I didn’t want the original letter leaving the house in case it got lost, so I quickly went downstairs and into the front room where I photocopied it, and then gave the copy to Stevie.
‘Have a good day,’ I said as he left to go to school. ‘See you around seven-thirty.’ Which was the time he usually returned from his grandparents’.
That afternoon Verity replied to my email and said she would write a short report to accompany Stevie’s statement for the railway company and asked me to send the letter to her, as she would take care of it. I put it in an envelope straight away and posted it that afternoon.
Adrian, Lucy, Paula and I had just sat down to dinner that evening when the doorbell rang. Not expecting Stevie until much later, I was surprised to see him standing there, his face set like thunder.
‘He’s a fucking wanker!’ he said as he came in, and then stormed up to his room. At the same time the house phone rang. I answered it in the hall. ‘Is Stevie with you?’ Peggy asked anxiously.
‘Yes, he’s just this second arrived, and not in the best of moods by the look of it.’
‘That’s because Fred told him he was an idiot for getting on that train without a ticket.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘He said he’d stuck up for him about the photos of Liam and Kiri, as he knew he hadn’t meant any harm, but getting on a train without a ticket was plain stupidity and he could sort out his own mess.’
Clearly this wasn’t the reaction Stevie had expected. ‘OK, Peggy, thanks for letting me know. I’ve sent the letter from the railway company to Verity and she is going to deal with it, so don’t worry. I’d better go and make sure Stevie is all right.’
‘Thanks. He hasn’t had any dinner either. Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll give him some. At least he came back and didn’t go missing again.’
‘I suppose that’s something. Dear me, it’s one upset after another. I’m at my wit’s end.’
‘I can imagine. Look after yourself.’
We said goodbye, and as I began upstairs Paula called from the kitchen-diner, ‘Mum! Your dinner is getting cold!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll reheat it.’
I knocked on Stevie’s bedroom door. ‘Can I come in?’
There was no reply, so I knocked again and then eased open the door and went in. Stevie was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his head in his hands, crying. He looked up as I entered. ‘Everyone hates me,’ he said through his tears. ‘My life isn’t worth living.’