By the time my mobile rang – as late as 5.15 p.m. – Mike was home, Tyler was home, and I was almost at breaking point.
It was an unknown number, too. Not Jenna. Which terrified me. Particularly since I hadn’t heard from her since just after lunch, at which point she had no idea how things were going to go for her.
I called for hush – Tyler and Seth were running riot with a pair of plastic swords Tyler had bought him the previous day – my head already filled with a single, sharp vision. Of Jenna being led away, handcuffed, from a dock.
Which was utterly ridiculous. She wasn’t the defendant in a murder trial, for God’s sake! But Mike brought me back to reality.
‘Answer that bloody phone, woman!’
So I did, my heart drumming in my chest. Because this had to be bad news, surely? I took myself off into the living room, and shut the door.
‘Mrs Watson? This is Jules Hammond. I’m a clerk at Ernest Fleming & Co. Solicitors.’
Jenna’s solicitors. ‘Yes, that’s me,’ I said. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes, yes, everything is fine,’ she assured me breezily. ‘Jenna’s being debriefed in a meeting room with her solicitor at the moment, but she asked that I phone you to let you know the outcome of today.’
‘So the judge has made her decision?’
‘Yes, she has.’ So they were right. The authority wrong. No delay. ‘And you’ll be pleased to hear we got what we’d asked for.’
‘She won her case?’ I asked, as Mike slipped into the room behind me.
‘Not quite,’ the clerk said. ‘It was more that the local authority didn’t win. The children will remain in care but living with mother.’
I did a double take. Had I misheard? ‘Hang on – wait,’ I said. ‘In care, living with mother?’
‘Yes. In care, living with mother. There are obviously a lot of logistics to work out, but the social workers are putting together a plan as we speak. And I’m quite sure they never had one, because they were definitely not expecting this outcome, but anyway, it is what it is. They’ll catch up soon enough. Are you alright keeping the family until after the weekend, so Jenna has time to get organised? We’ll need to confirm that’s the case to the judge.’
‘Oh goodness, yes, of course,’ I said. ‘They can stay as long as they need to.’
‘Excellent,’ the clerk said. ‘I’ll let everyone know that. We shouldn’t be too much longer now. I’m sure Jenna will call to let you know when she’s on her way back.’
I rang off in a state of utter confusion, only compounded when a text notification popped up on my screen. From Emma. Yayyy!!! Brilliant news! You must be sooo relieved!!!!
‘In care, living with mother?’ Mike kept his voice down. As, of course, he would, because it wasn’t for us to tell Seth the news. That job was for Jenna. As now, on the face of it, would be every job, every decision, to do with her children. As of now, give or take the odd bit of paperwork, we were no longer fostering Seth and Tommy.
I nodded. ‘That’s what they said. She’s going home. After the weekend, apparently – well, I guess as soon as she’s organised. What’s that about? I thought they were making an application to extend the placement here.’
Mike shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea, love. Perhaps they felt this was the better option.’
‘But why didn’t Jenna say anything? As far as I knew she wanted to stay here.’
‘Perhaps she changed her mind.’
‘She must have. Or maybe she didn’t. Perhaps the authority argued against her staying here. Oh, God. Do you think that might be it? That they think she’s more likely to fail if she’s on her own? Do you think that’s it? Because that’s pretty much what Sam Burdett intimated. That there was no benefit in her staying here and dragging everything out if the end result was going to be that they got their adoption order anyway.’
Mike placed an arm around my shoulder. ‘You are a case, Case,’ he told me. ‘Stop flipping hypothesising! We’ll know when she gets here, won’t we? And it could be that this was exactly what Jenna was going for all along. Have you thought of that?’
‘Er, hello?’ I harrumphed. ‘I thought you said to stop hypothesising?’
I was stunned. There were no two ways about it. The one option I had dismissed as so unlikely as not to be even up for consideration (well, apart from Jenna legally getting the children back, which was never going to happen) had turned out to be the one Jenna’s solicitor had not only pressed for but got. Had this been Jenna’s idea? Was that really what she wanted? To go home, with her two little ones, to live on her own – and with a level of input from social services that would make even the most confident mother feel intimidated and scrutinised? I couldn’t quite believe she’d have chosen that option. To me, bar, of course, losing the kids altogether, it felt like the worst of all worlds. An intensely high-risk strategy, with no safety net. So had it been settled on with the authority’s input, based on their assumption that if she stayed with me I might allow her too much latitude? That things would just drag on towards the same inevitable end?
No, no and no. It was not that, it was Jenna. I could tell the very moment she came through the door, some forty-five minutes later. A brief moment of uncomfortable eye contact – on her part, at least – that immediately gave me the answer, before she dumped her bag and squatted down in the hall to let Seth run into her arms.
‘Oh, I’ve missed you, you little munchkin,’ she said, burying her face in his hair. Tufty now, growing out, measuring the passage of time. ‘Did Aunty Casey tell you the good news?’
‘What news?’ he said. Behind him, I shook my head.
‘We’re going home,’ she said. ‘Back to our home.’
‘And my brother?’
She grinned at him. ‘Of course your brother! We can’t leave him behind, can we?’
‘Alright. That’s okay,’ Seth replied philosophically. ‘But what about the telly? Can we get a special telly like the one in the big room?’
‘Maybe not right away, I’m afraid,’ she told him. ‘But as soon as we can, I promise.’ She stood up again, smiled at the four of us, gathered in the hallway. Mike, holding Tommy, Tyler and me. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘that was quite a day!’ Then, almost as if she needed to set a maternal precedent, held her hands out, as any mother would, to take charge of her younger son.
‘I’ll bet,’ I said. ‘Coffee?’
She smiled and shook her head. Then bent down to retrieve something from her capacious handbag. ‘I thought we should celebrate, so I bought some Prosecco. Just a glass for me, mind.’ She grinned. ‘Can’t afford a sore head!’
There was little time to talk then, as there were children to get organised. Seth still had another day in nursery the following morning. His last one. No doubt social services would be getting into gear now on that front; they obviously had a duty to get him into another nursery immediately, and I was glad that Mrs Sykes had moved to act when she did, because it didn’t matter that Seth would be starting at a new place – he would still be in the system, which was the most important thing, whether the actual referral took a few weeks or a few months. In the meantime, however, for one more day only, our morning routine would remain in place. And, happily, the bedtime routine was without drama, both Seth and Tommy settling without a fuss, and – I might have imagined it, but I was pretty sure I didn’t – Jenna lingering rather longer in the conservatory with Tommy than she usually did, before re-emerging and joining Mike and I in the living room, to tell us all about her day in court.
Which she did, with no small degree of feeling.
‘Oh, you should have heard the solicitor for the social,’ she said. ‘She was making me out to be such a criminal. Bringing up all my past, my drug taking, and stealing and stuff. Then she said about prison, and I was, like, gobsmacked, listening to her. She made out like I’d decided I didn’t want to look after Tommy – like I had fobbed him off on you, when it was the exact opposite of that! I did it because I thought it would be better for him! She was so horrid. Honestly, listening to her, I really thought it was all over.’
Mike and I exchanged covert smiles as we listened to her ranting. The judge had clearly seen something in Jenna that she liked, that she believed in – and perhaps it was this; this passion to win her kids back at all costs, to prove to the world that she could be a mum. Whatever it had been, I was just so relieved and happy that fate had decreed it be this judge, on this day. Yes, she had a long way to go and lots to learn, but this girl did love her children, and there was no doubt about that, not in my mind, at least. And with the right help and guidance she could surely learn how to be a decent parent, if not a perfect one. Because none of us were that. We were all guilty of making mistakes. It’s just that most of us can reflect on our pasts, our own childhoods, and hopefully take lessons from that. Jenna didn’t have that – she had no role models at all.
‘I can imagine,’ I said to her. ‘But they’re just doing what they’re paid to do – fighting the other “team”. And the judge would have been used to it. This is how the courts work. And don’t forget, she has all the evidence, so she can take a balanced view.’
‘And it sounds like your man did a pretty good job too,’ Mike added. ‘Because in spite of what that solicitor said, the judge decided to give you a chance anyway, so she must believe in you, love, like we all do.’
Jenna beamed. ‘She was brilliant. I mean, I know I don’t listen to everything said to me, especially if it’s all big words and shit, but she said some really nice things about me. It was almost like she was talking about someone else. She said I’m a good mum. And she said your daily sheets were evidence of that, Casey, so thank you for that. It really means a lot to me. And I know I’ve got lots of shit to do and prove over the next year, but I swear down, I will not waste this chance. That’s what it is, that’s what the judge said; that it’s a chance to prove to everyone that I really want to change and make a good life for my family.’
‘And you will, darling,’ I said, unable to resist going across to the armchair and giving her a big hug. ‘We know you can do it, Jen, and I’ll still be here, at the end of the phone if you want to chat or rant or whatever. When you leave us, that won’t be the end of it, you know.’
‘Really?’ She looked surprised. ‘You mean I can still see you and everything?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Mike said. ‘Of course you can still see us! They don’t put us in a crate at the end of every placement and ship us off to the Maldives. Haha – chance would be a fine thing!’
It was at that moment, Jenna close to tears, that Tyler popped his head round the door. ‘I’m off to Naomi’s now,’ he said. ‘And I might be late back. See you all tomorrow, yeah?’
At which Jenna immediately leapt from her chair. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘I’ve got something for you and Naomi. You know, to say sorry for all that stupid kicking-off a couple of weeks ago.’
She disappeared back into the conservatory, then came back out with a little bag. A little gold and black bag bearing a familiar logo. She held it out to Tyler. ‘There’s one for each of you. I got the solicitor to run me round to the shops while we were waiting at lunchtime. I don’t know if it’s your thing or not, but, well –’
Tyler took the bag. ‘So can I open mine now?’
‘Course,’ she said. ‘Yours is the one in the black tissue. Naomi’s is the other one. More girly.’
Tyler opened the tissue to reveal a slim brown leather bracelet, with a tiny silver heart hanging from it.
‘Hope it’s not too cringe-worthy,’ Jenna said. ‘There’s a heart on hers too.’
‘No, it’s sick,’ he said. ‘Perfect. Thank you. But you didn’t need to do that. You need to save your money, don’t you? Anyway, thank you,’ he said again. ‘That’s really thoughtful.’
Typical Jenna, I thought. Generous to a fault, no regard for saving. ‘It didn’t cost much,’ she said, as if reading my thoughts. ‘They were in a mid-season sale. Anyway, I hope Naomi likes hers. Something to remember me by. Well, as if being clunked on the head by a Postman Pat van isn’t enough, lol!’
‘Seriously, love,’ I said to her, once Tyler had left. ‘That was the sweetest, sweetest thing to do. But you need to be really, really careful with your money now. Not just because you should, but because it’s going to be one of the things they will be monitoring pretty closely now you’re going it alone.’
‘I am careful with money,’ she said. ‘You don’t need to worry on that front. I might be rubbish at lots of things, but I’m not about money. I’ve had a lifetime to learn how to manage on my own, believe me.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Well, apart from that one bit, when I totally lost my shit, and burned through a bloody ton on drugs, obvs.’
‘Obvs,’ I agreed, smiling. ‘And that’s really good to know.’
She looked down, and then up again. At both me and Mike. ‘And I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Sorry?’
‘For not telling you. That I planned on leaving. I wanted to, but I was worried that you’d try to talk me out of it. And you might have, because it does feel bloody scary. I mean, there was also the fact that I didn’t even dare hope that they wouldn’t take them away from me altogether. But as soon as you told me it was one of the options I knew it was the one I had to try for. You do understand, don’t you?’
‘Absolutely,’ Mike said, before I could.
‘I mean, I’ve loved it here, really,’ she said, ‘and even if I might not have sounded it sometimes, I’m so grateful to you both for taking us all in. For looking after Seth and Tommy when I couldn’t. For putting up with all my shit. And I know it must seem like I’m not – that I can’t wait to be out of here – but, actually I can’t. But that’s not because of you.’
‘We understand, love,’ I began. ‘You need your own space, we get that.’
‘But it’s not so much that,’ she said, ‘my flat’s, like, super-tiny. It’s just that if I don’t, it’s like I can’t start being a proper mum again. Specially to Seth. It’s like you’re his mum and dad and I’m, like, his sister, or his aunty. And the longer that goes on, the harder it’s going to be for him to get used to the life he’s really going to be living.’ She glanced around her then. ‘My life. No big magic telly. At least not yet. And Emma said to me today – did I tell you she came? – that the biggest thing now is that the buck stops with me.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t know what the buck is exactly, but you know what I mean?’
‘I know exactly what you mean,’ I said. And I did.
‘So, I was thinking, I mean, I don’t want to mess up your weekend or anything, but d’you think we might be able to get us moved back in on Saturday? I mean, that flat’s not going to be in the best state after being empty all this time, and, er, it’s not like I’m the world’s greatest cleaner or anything, so it’s not exactly tidy … but I was thinking, Casey, maybe if you could drop me and Tommy off there after we drop Seth to nursery tomorrow morning, I could at least make a start, and –’
Mike burst out laughing. ‘Drop you off? You’ve as much chance of Casey dropping you off to clean your flat as flying, love, I promise you.’
‘If it’s too much trouble –’
‘Trouble? Trust me, you’ll have to beat her off with a stick.’
I did jazz hands. ‘Guilty as charged. World’s Greatest Cleaner.’
‘So, do you think she’ll be okay?’ Mike said, as we lay in bed that night. ‘Tell me honestly. Do you have faith in her? Do you think she can do it? It’s one thing to cope while she’s here, with us supporting her, quite another to be a single mum in a flat with two little ones, and social services constantly breathing down your neck.’
‘Honestly? I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t even know herself yet. How can anyone? It’s going to be tough for her. But at least she does have social services breathing down her neck. I mean, you can look at it in two ways – as a help or a hindrance. I think in her case, it will actually be a help. A support network. And, let’s face it, if she can keep her children, that’s got to be better for them, hasn’t it? And it’s Lizzie Croft who’s going to be their social worker now, isn’t it? Plus, she has Emma to support her, if she needs it. And us, don’t forget.’
‘Ah,’ he said, ‘speaking of which, I lied to Jenna earlier.’
‘Lied? About what?’
‘About them not packing us into a crate and shipping us off to the Maldives.’ He reached across to his bedside table and flipped open the cover on his tablet. ‘For a week, at least,’ he said. ‘I was thinking Easter. Maybe April.’
I snuggled up, sighing happily, as the screen came to life. He started scrolling. He’d already been doing his research, clearly. Blue skies, bright sun, turquoise seas … the Spanish flag?
‘Pick a Costa,’ he said. ‘We can’t run to the Maldives.’