Chapter Twenty-Seven
Life with Stevie finally settled down. He saw Liam and Kiri the following evening after school at his grandparents’ house and stayed for dinner. Thereafter, he got into the routine of visiting his grandparents twice a week after school, when he’d stay for the evening and return to us by bus at around 7.30. He also began going there either on Saturday or Sunday. I always asked him if he’d had a nice time, but I didn’t enquire closely if his grandparents had been present the whole time he’d been with Kiri and Liam. To be honest, I didn’t want to know. If they hadn’t, then I would have been duty bound to inform Verity. I knew Stevie well enough to feel confident he didn’t pose a threat to his siblings or any other children. Had I had any doubts, I would have told Verity. Also, I thought that if she had serious concerns for the children’s safety, they would have stayed in care and not been allowed home. By asking Peggy and Fred to be present, she was sending them a message to be more vigilant in the future. Had they been more vigilant in the past, it’s unlikely Stevie would have taken the indecent photographs in the first place. Sometimes, when Stevie returned from his grandparents’ house, he had a grumble about Fred, but generally he seemed more tolerant and forgiving of his grandfather. I think he now appreciated that he loved him and had stood up for him in the matter of the police investigation. And perhaps Fred had mellowed and was more tolerant, I didn’t know.
Verity visited Stevie at my house and, among other things, helped him write his statement for the railway company, which she said she would send off with her report. She agreed with Stevie that it was better if he remained with me, at least for now. She told him he could stay until he was eighteen, when he would be found semi-independent accommodation. The referral to CAMHS came through and Stevie began seeing a therapist after school for an hour once a week. When he returned, I never pried into what had taken place. Those sessions were private and between him and his therapist. He knew he could tell me if he wanted to. I asked him once if he was finding the sessions useful and he shrugged and said, ‘I guess.’
One Saturday evening towards the end of June Stevie telephoned from his grandparents’ and said he wanted to stay the night. I said I didn’t see why not, but I thought we should clear it with Verity first and suggested making it the following weekend instead. ‘Grandpa says he wants to talk to you,’ Stevie said, and passed the phone to Fred.
‘Good evening, Cathy. How are you all?’ Fred said, clearly in good spirits.
‘Very well, thank you, and you?’
‘Well. There’s no need for you to worry about Verity. I will tell her on Monday. Stevie would like to spend the weekend here, so that is what will happen. He will return to you on Sunday evening.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Thank you for telling me. Have a nice weekend.’
I made a note of the arrangements in my log and emailed them to Verity. The following week Verity emailed a reply to say she had spoken to Mr and Mrs Jones and approved the new arrangements for contact. After that, Stevie began staying at his grandparents’ house every weekend, going on Saturday morning and arriving home Sunday evening. With Stevie spending so long with Fred, I was half expecting it to go pear-shaped and for the two of them to clash and have an argument. Stevie was becoming more and more confident in expressing his gender identity. He was in school uniform when he visited his grandparents during the week, but at the weekends he dressed up. He wore eye-catching clothes, make-up, jewellery and nail varnish. He had grown his hair longer and, while he wore it unobtrusively tucked behind his ears for school, at the weekend he curled and styled it – sometimes with Lucy’s help. I wondered how Fred was coping with all of this.
Now Stevie’s behaviour had settled down and he could be trusted, I gave him a front-door key so he could let himself in like the rest of us. One Sunday evening I was sitting in the living room, reading, when I heard him return. ‘Hi, Stevie!’ I called. ‘I’m in here!’
He came into the living room, smiling.
‘You look very pleased with yourself,’ I said. He sat in one of the armchairs.
‘You’re not going to believe this, but Grandpa has bought himself a laptop! I’ve spent most of the weekend showing him how to work it. He’s like a kid with a new toy.’
‘Well done, Fred,’ I said.
‘He told me that what happened to me online had taught him a lesson. It had made him realise he needed to learn to use a computer and go online, so he could keep an eye on Liam and Kiri, and stop them getting into trouble.’
‘Very sensible,’ I said. ‘So you two are getting along much better?’
Stevie nodded. ‘I showed him some of the websites for people like me that offer advice and support for friends and relatives, and he was interested. But what has really helped is that a guy he knows at the pub he goes to told him his son has come out as gay. Grandpa said it made him see that worse things can happen.’ Stevie smiled. ‘He said now he knew someone with a queer son, he didn’t feel so bad.’
I smiled too. ‘That sounds like Fred.’
In July the schools broke up for the long summer holiday and Stevie began spending more time at his grandparents’, sometimes staying there for three days at a time, returning to us for one night, then going again. As a foster carer I was starting to feel redundant and that my work with Stevie was largely done, although of course he could have his home with us for as long as he and the social services wanted. But I knew this situation wouldn’t be allowed to continue indefinitely. There is always a shortage of foster carers and now I had an empty bedroom for most of the week. Also, Fred was upping the pressure on the social services to have Stevie home again.
Towards the end of August, Edith arranged to see me for one of her supervisory visits, and, once settled in the living room, she got straight to the point.
‘Verity has met with Stevie and Mr and Mrs Jones with a view to him returning to live with them permanently.’
It wasn’t a great shock, it had crossed my mind, but I knew there’d be a number of issues to deal with first. It seemed they’d done that now. One of them was that Stevie had previously shared a bedroom with Liam before coming into care and had complained about a lack of privacy, and he hadn’t had anywhere quiet to do his homework. I now learnt that some time ago Mr and Mrs Jones had converted their garage into a small bedsit for their adult daughter, but it hadn’t been used for many years, except for storage. Fred and Stevie had been clearing it out and it had become Stevie’s room. Another, more pressing issue was that of Stevie’s gender identity, and Verity had made it a condition of Stevie returning home that Mr and Mrs Jones would support him in the referral to the gender-identity clinic – Stevie was still waiting for a first appointment. In addition, Verity had told them that Stevie should continue to see the therapist at CAMHS once a week for as long as it was needed.
‘Verity wants Stevie to move next week, so he will have time to settle in before the start of the new school term in September,’ Edith said.
‘Oh, as soon as that,’ I said, and immediately teared up. Although I’d been half expecting this to happen, it’s never easy when a child or young person you’ve looked after and cared for, and who’s been part of your family, leaves. The loss is like a small bereavement. Despite, or maybe because of, all the worry he’d caused me, I felt very close to Stevie; we’d been through so much together. His journey had become my journey too, as it had Paula, Adrian and Lucy’s.
I put the date of his move in my diary and Edith completed the rest of her supervisory visit. I told Adrian, Lucy and Paula that Stevie was going over for dinner that evening. Stevie was with his grandparents again for the night.
‘I hope it works out for him,’ Adrian said.
I nodded. ‘So do I.’
‘He should be with his family if he can,’ Lucy said.
‘Is his mother still in prison?’ Paula asked.
‘As far as I know,’ I replied.
Our mood was sombre and bittersweet. It was good for Stevie that he was able to go home, although of course in so doing he was leaving our home, and we’d be a family member short.
When Stevie returned to us the next day, I could tell he was finding it difficult now we all knew he was leaving. He was in transition, with a foot in each house, and was feeling disloyal to me. ‘You do understand why I have to go?’ he asked for the second time.
‘Yes, of course, love. That’s your home. My job is done. We’ll miss you, but I’m sure you’ll stay in touch.’
He gave me another big hug. ‘My new room is great,’ he said, brightening. ‘Do you want to see some photos?’
‘Yes, please.’
He took his phone from his pocket and showed me photographs of the garage conversion. The bedsit was comfortable, with magnolia-painted walls and a deep-blue carpet. There was a single bed, wardrobe, chair and television, and a kettle stood on a small cabinet at one end. At the other end, in a specially built cubicle, was a toilet, shower and washbasin.
‘I can’t cook in my room, so I’ll be having my meals with everyone else,’ he explained.
‘It looks fantastic,’ I said. ‘But why didn’t your grandparents think of you using the room when you lived there before?’
‘It was full of Mum’s stuff. They were keeping it for her in case she came back, but that won’t happen now.’
The weekend before Stevie was due to move, he asked if he could phone my mother to say goodbye, for he was unlikely to see her again.
‘Yes, of course, love. Let me speak to her first,’ I said.
We went into the living room, where I used the landline to phone Mum. She already knew Stevie was leaving and I now said he wanted to say goodbye, and then passed the phone to him.
‘You’ve been really nice to me,’ Stevie said. ‘Thank you for helping to make my stay here a good one, and for accepting me for who I am. You made me feel like one of your family. I’ll miss you.’
I couldn’t hear Mum’s reply, but when Stevie passed the phone back to me she was clearly moved. Over the years, she’d said goodbye to many children I’d fostered, but it’s not something you ever get used to. Goodbyes are important, difficult though they may be, as they offer some closure and allow everyone to move on with their lives.
‘He’s a good lad,’ Mum said, her voice unsteady. ‘I’m sure he’ll do well. You’ll miss him.’
‘Yes, we all will.’
I told Stevie I’d like him to spend the evening before he moved with us, and we ordered his favourite takeaway. Once we’d eaten, we gave him a leaving card signed by us all and a present. It was a silver bracelet similar to the necklace his grandmother had given him on his thirteenth birthday. It was the right gift. Stevie was delighted and immediately put it on. The delicate silver links looked good on his slender wrist and sparkled in the light as he turned it. He thanked us all again for looking after him and I felt a lump rise in my throat.
The following morning Lucy and Adrian said an emotional goodbye before they left for work and, after breakfast, Paula – on college holiday – helped Stevie and me load the car with his belongings. His grandparents were expecting us around eleven o’clock. Paula wasn’t coming, as she was meeting a friend for lunch. I checked that Stevie’s room was clear and went downstairs, where Stevie was stroking Sammy, who’d come to see what was going on. He then hugged Paula goodbye.
‘Don’t forget to message me,’ he said.
‘I won’t.’
They gave each other another hug and I could see Stevie was reluctant to leave, and I had welled up again, so I ushered him outside and into the car. Paula stood in the porch and waved him off.
‘I’m going to miss you guys,’ he said, his voice breaking.
‘We’ll miss you too, but you’ll be OK. And you know where we are if you want to visit.’
He nodded and wiped his eyes.
He was quiet as I drove and just gazed straight ahead. I was quiet too, and thought back over the time Stevie had spent with us. As we neared his grandparents’ house he perked up. ‘I could make you a cup of tea in my room,’ he said.
‘Sounds good to me.’ I glanced at him and smiled. ‘I’m pleased you came to stay with us, Stevie.’
‘Thanks, so am I.’
As soon as we drew up outside his house, the front door burst open and Liam and Kiri rushed out, followed more slowly by Peggy and Fred.
‘Stevie’s home!’ the children shouted as we got out. ‘Stevie’s home for good!’
I’d never met Liam and Kiri before, but they were cute kids with mischievous smiles. ‘Is this the woman who looked after you?’ Liam asked Stevie.
‘Yes, this is Cathy.’
‘Hi,’ I said, smiling at them both. ‘I can see you’re pleased to have your brother back.’
‘Don’t you want him any more then?’ Kiri asked, and we all laughed.
Everyone helped unload the car and we carried Stevie’s bags straight into his room, which I admired. Stevie was then so busy trying to contain Kiri and Liam, who were eager to help him unpack, that he forgot about the cup of tea. I decided it was best to leave them to it and not prolong the goodbye.
‘I’ll be off then, Stevie,’ I said, touching his arm to gain his attention. ‘You take care.’ He turned from the suitcase Kiri and Liam were unpacking and hugged me goodbye. I then said goodbye to everyone else.
‘I’ll see you out,’ Fred said.
With a final goodbye, I went with Fred into the hall, where he gave me a box of chocolates. ‘Thanks for all you did,’ he said.
‘You’re welcome, and thanks for these. My favourites. I’m so pleased it’s all worked out for you.’
‘So am I,’ he said, and opened the front door. ‘Strange old world, isn’t it? As they say, there’s nowt so queer as folk.’ He burst into laughter at his own joke.
‘You can say that again, Fred,’ I said with a smile, and went down the path to my car.